


Emotional Sickness

by akaya



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Angst, Gen, M/M, we used to be soldiers once
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-04-11
Updated: 2011-04-11
Packaged: 2017-10-17 22:47:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/182130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akaya/pseuds/akaya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The war is over, so where is their place now?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

He felt sick.

Sick to the very core of his bones and mind.  
He stood there, gaping like a kid that saw something terrifying for the first time in his life.

Duo Maxwell, for the first time since the war ended, felt cold shivers down his spine. He remembered how cold sweat feels on his skin, and it wasn’t something he really wanted to remember.

He remembered all that, and didn’t know what to do. He was lost, like he was ten years old again; watching the church – his only home then – falling apart, being consumed by ruthless flames of fire. He could smell the scent of burning flesh and hear the awful laugh of the Oz soldiers.

He clenched his fist at his sides, still looking at the very same spot, but he didn’t see it anymore. In the eye of his mind he was back on the battlefield, feeling each burn, cut, broken bone, the endless chant in his head.

 _It’s gonna be alright, it’s always gonna be alright. It’s gonna be alright, it’s ok, it’s gonna be alright!_

He felt muscles in his face convulsing. His mask was trying to pull them into a nasty shit-eating grin he wore all the time then. He gritted his teeth, suddenly unable to stop it.

“Duo?” Was someone calling him? No, he didn’t use this name anymore. Deciding to abandon it, along with all the suffering of the war. Cutting his hair was the hardest thing. It took him a while to get used to his now short do. But it helped, really.

But he wasn’t Duo Maxwell anymore. He closed that chapter, sealing away everything that had to do with this persona. Everything. Including his long braid, name, friends, memories, life.

It was so good. Oh, it was so good!  
It was easier to pretend that he was happy that way. It became so natural to him that perhaps sometimes – was it really possible – he did feel real happiness.

And now he stood here. In the shopping center on L2 looking at one of the photographic albums in the small bookstore he liked so much.

It had a photo of Deathscythe on the cover.

His ears were ringing. His nails were making red half-moons in his skin, and he could remember. He could remember every little detail of what happened when this photo was taken. One look at where it stood and he remembered.

Broken arm.  
Sick, sour smell of death creeping upon them.  
Screams of people falling down.  
Dying.

He could remember it all, and he could do nothing about it.

“Duo!” this voice again. He thought he was getting delusional, until someone touched his arm. Reawaken habits, making him move faster that he could think of it. Pulling the offending arm trying to throw him on the ground.

But the other body didn’t move how he predicted, making a sleazy move and moving away from him in an instant.

“Duo,” a deep voice told him. “Hn, so I was right”. Duo’s eyes widened slightly as he took in a well-known silhouette. Perhaps the person he was looking at now was a bit taller, with more adult look… But those eyes and messy hair; he could – he would - recognize them everywhere.

In front of him stood Heero Yuy. Bearing a bag full of groceries, he stood in front of him, watching him with mild interest.

Duo turned and run.

 


	2. Chapter 2

It was rare for Heero Yuy to be surprised. After all he was a person who effortlessly tried to throw away his life more than once during the war. He was trained to be a perfect soldier, to do his orders no matter what they were.

He used to have a few breakouts when he was younger, subconsciously fighting for at least some level of normalcy, but it was quickly and effectively smashed into pieces that couldn't be put together for a second time. Thus, he survived. In spite of countless smashed bones in his body, scars and emotional drainage. He managed to get through the war, and was now living a life that could be called perfectly normal and boring.

He could give away exact number of things that could be considered thrilling or exciting in his modern life. One of them being neighbour's dog shitting in front of his porch, every damn Thursday. He was suspecting the damn thing had some kind of internal clock and was trained to do just that by his neighbours that were probably some super secret organization plotting how to take over the world. Or so he liked to think when he was at his wits end, trying very hard to think that it was what he wanted.

This everyday normalcy, with a boring office job, grocery shopping and shitting spawn of Satan living just next door. This was the thing he fought for, and this was the thing that from the very beginning wasn't for him. He knew very well that he wasn't supposed to see post war world. No one really expected for it to actually end, not to mention that Gundam pilots would survive.

But yet, here he was. Very much breathing and alive looking straight at a person whom he immediately recognized in spite of the shorter hair and general growth. Yes, he was surprised, but he wasn't sure if it was because it was Duo with short hair, or simply because it was Duo. The very same one who disappeared soon after last formalities were done and Gundams – their spare parts as well – were destroyed. It was a day they'd all remember, or so he dared to think that.

  
It was an official start of new era, and they all knew it.

“Duo?” his lips moved on their own, but the man standing in front of him didn't react. Perhaps he was wrong, maybe he just wanted to see something from his past to remind him that yes, he lived through all that. He didn't feel anger towards people for forgetting so easily about the ruins, living in constant fear, not knowing what tomorrow may bring. It would be illogical and against everything they put into his head. But he wanted.

Yes, Heero Yuy, ex-perfect soldier desperately needed something to remind him that all of it wasn't just some nightmare he dreamt for the bigger part of his life. That it was real, because if it wasn't then his whole existence was pointless. Including the point in time where he stood now.

“Duo!” He tried again, louder to catch the man's attention, but there was still no reaction. He noticed the odd grimace on the other's face and his clenched fists. He was looking very intently at one of the bookshelves, his whole body rigid. Heero walked closer, reaching for him. Duo, because now he was sure it was him, reacted immediately catching his arm and pulling him to the floor. He would've have most likely succeed if Heero's training didn't kick in, allowing him to quickly move away. He felt a sudden rush of adrenaline cursing through his veins.

“Hn, so I was right” he said, satisfied with the right guess. Duo looked shaken, eyes widening. Those eyes, noticed Heero, didn't change so much. As for the rest, he was much taller now, hair in a sloppy ponytail instead of his trademark braid he used to wear in the past. Despite all that, he was still recognizable. Heero wanted to say something more, but Duo suddenly turned and ran; leaving him stupefied.

 


	3. Chapter 3

There was no Deathscythe album on the shelf anymore. Duo noticed it right away. It was not that hard to miss really, and the change was probably nothing unusual. It was two months since the first time he saw it.

Now, on the very same shelf sat some big, pink book with white ribbons and a photo of a smiling newborn baby. All of it seemed to be so perfect and sugary sweet that he was feeling a bit nauseous, picturing something completely different, less idyllic and happy, and definitely more violent.

“Should I congratulate you?” came a harsh, monotone voice. He immediately snapped from his sick daydreaming, turning his head. Heero was standing next to him, close. As if personal space didn’t apply to him, which was probably true at the moment. Duo’s body tensed, preparing for a run, just like the last time, but Heero was faster. Bastard had his arm in a steel grip in seconds. He could make a scene, Duo thought, scream, but what would be the point in that, really.

“Release me,” he said stiffly, looking in the other’s calculating eyes. Of course, he thought and smiled bitterly, Heero was in a mission mode.

“No,” Heero’s grip lessened, his fingers moved down, from Duo’s arm to his elbow, and stayed there. For a mere bystander it would all probably look like an intimate gesture of two people closely bonded together. Lovers maybe, for Duo it was a piece offering of a kind, but he didn’t want it. He just didn’t.

“Release me, we have nothing to talk about,” he said calmly, muscles twitching. Heero probably felt them. He was good at body language, very useful when you need to knock someone down. “I don’t even know you.”

“I know you.”

“No,” he said curtly. “No, you don’t,” he bit. He was tired, he knew it was stupid of him to come here and check upon the dreadful album, but he still did it. He also, thought it was hard to admit, almost patted himself on the back for staying away that long. It seems his inner masochist had to be fed, but even that was too much for him.

“I don’t?” Heero asked, but didn’t release his grip. Hell, grimaced Duo, he even made it harder.

“Exactly, and I’d really appreciate you not crashing my arm. I might need it in the future.”

“I’ve been waiting for you,” said Heero, looking somewhere above Duo’s arm. He grew taller and his shoulders were also noticeably wider than Heero’s. Probably due to his heritage, but his build still was fairly lean. “You changed.”

“And the main prize goes to,” Duo wanted to mock-clap at him, but it was hard when one of your arms was pretty much immobilized. “I’m serious Heero, let me go.”

“No.”

“I will call the police, or start screaming, which one you prefer?” He asked, but his only answer a raise of a brow.

Duo really wanted to scream.

“Why?”

“Why what? Why are you crushing my arm, or why you suddenly decided that it’s a splendid idea to have a talk with me? Hmm, which one is it Heero?” Duo snapped, taking a step back, trying to wring his arm back. “And for God’s sake, gimme back my arm, you idiotic bastard!”

“Stop making a scene.”

“Or what? You will knock me out in front of all this people?” Duo barred his teeth, moving his free arm, through his hair. Few strands got out of his hairband, falling into this face. “Fuck.”

“I just want to talk,” Heero gritted his teeth. “Please.”

“Fine,” exhaled finally Duo, rubbing the bridge of his nose in annoyance. To his utter amazement, the grip on his elbow was instantly released. “Now you’re letting me go, I could ran, you know. I’m fast.” Heero just shrugged, stuffing hands into his pockets. Duo could hear a crunch of some papers, probably old recipes. It was, after all, really hard to imagine that ex-perfect soldier had his pockets full of candy wrappers. No sir, no can do. “What, you wanted to talk, and now you’re silent?”

“You said you never lie,” said Heero, looking at him with something that might be a bit of attitude, but Duo decided that at his point he was probably delirious from nerves and making things up. He was finally loosing his mind, after all this years. He mentally prayed for his journey to be quick and painless, because he just about had it.

“It was years ago, Yuy,” he chuckled darkly. “Things changed. I changed, and for that I’m really glad.”

“You’re here now.”

“I’m only a human. I need to eat,” he made a sudden gesture with his arms. “This happens to be a shopping center. Please, don’t make me explain that concept. Your social skills had to get a bit better since the-” he suddenly stopped, and cleared his throat.

“Two months.”

“Now you’re stalking me too,” he scrunched his nose.

“I don’t.”

“It wasn’t a question.”

“I don’t. It’s only a logical observation,” Heero stated, but Duo only looked at him doubtfully. He could feel the headache coming at full speed. Like one of those trains with those conked out brakes. The crash will be violent, bloody and painful as hell. It was a given.

  
“Perhaps I was wrong. Perhaps you didn’t change at all,” he sighed, and could swear that Heero winced; it certainly looked like it was a wince. “Did you just,” he shook his head. “You know what, never mind. Let’s talk and get over with it, the sooner the better and both of us can go on their respectable ways,” he finished, putting a definite accent on ‘respectable’. It’s not like he expected this kind of situation. he changed his name, his life all for this Duo Maxwell persona to be forgotten, but then something like this happens and shit literally hits the fan. How joyful.

  
“There is a coffee shop nearby,” Heero said, nodding to his left. Now he was inviting him for a coffee too? This was rich, and a bit too hard to process. It was such moments that he should keep a diary for.

 _Dear diary, today I met a – a soldier, comrade… a friend? – Heero Yuy, you remember him do you? He’s the same bastard that you shoot at the first meeting. He stole your Gundam parts later so it’s all justified, right? Anyway…_

Duo snapped out of his reverie, remembering that Heero was still here, waiting for a response.

“Yeah, coffee, tea, whatever. Lead the way,” after all, he thought, it couldn’t get worse than that.


End file.
